How to Be a Friend
by Hopeless Desires
Summary: -and a hero, if the giant possessive snake in his head has any say in this. Let it be said, though, that Shintaro didn't like back pedaling eleven years into the past, nor did he like how nothing was turning out the same, but this time, he's going to do it right.「 Time Travel AU/T, Kanoshin, Kokonoses/Shintaro, Ayashin」
1. greek myths and touchy snakes

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**| How to Be a Friend |**

**. . . * . . .**

_Madder Red eyes, please. No more._

* * *

**Summary: **-and a hero, if the giant possessive snake in his head had any say in this. Let it be said, though, that Shintaro didn't like back pedaling eleven years into the past with one missing genital, nor did he like how nothing was turning out the same. But for now, this is reality. [Time Travel] AU/T.

**Warning: **gore (Kuroha), character death (everybody) angst (kagepro) tragedy (Jin) alternate universe and timeline (the author, HD) and yaoi (legit canon, definitely. Don't dare contradict me!). Shin and Ayano are BFFS (canon).

**Pairing: **Slight Shinkano/Kanoshin and Kokoshin/ShinKokonoses.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the song lyrics, nor the anime or manga or PVs, or most of the characters and their dialogue. I own only the idea of an eleven year back pedal in the Kagepro universe, my writing, and some character personalities.

**EDIT: 18.07.2014: ATTENTION. PLEASE DISREGARD THE FEMALE PRONOUNS USED TO DESCRIBE YOUNGER!SHINTARO. I have decided to keep Shintaro a male. May the male population of Homo Sapiens have a party. The female population have my sincerest condolences, but do not bring a riot to my front yard. **Also, I added details to some scenes towards the end, so you might want to read this again.

**Meanings: **Shintaro no danna: Master Shintaro.

Shintaro-danna: a shorter version of it.

* * *

_**\ . . . **Had to force myself to wake up_  
_ I just had to start my day_  
**_ Didn't want to leave my room_**  
_ Didn't want to **see** the things out there_

**. . .**

_ I don't know how to be your friend_  
_ I don't know how to be your friend_  
**_ I don't know how to be your friend . . ./_**

**_-Red Kross,_**I don't know how to be your friend

* * *

**chapter **01 has _greek myths and lusting snakes_

* * *

Did you know, red is the color of heroes?

_(In one timeline, Shintaro keeps his socializing with Konoha to a minimum, because he just can't talk to him without seeing bloody clothes and yellow eyes. He can't talk to him without the feeling of betrayal coloring his actions and words, without hatred and fear and something he can't name curling in his stomach._

_When it's about to end, he wakes up to cold red eyes, and he's wet with warm thick red, and he's forced to drink the blood of his sister, with her red eyes open and staring at him blankly few feet away._

_He's forced on his knees, his head digging into the ground as he tries not to choke on his sister's fading life._

_"Why did you ignore him?" Konoha asks. Shintaro forces his head to tilt upwards, and he sees sad, sad yellow eyes and hears accusations._

_He wishes he didn't look. He feels guilt and hatred and nostalgia. _

_"I see." Konoha smiles, and he looks like Haruka, so much like him that Shintaro almost vomits when he thinks of sweet, kind Haruka with mad red clothes and murdering his friends with a happy smile. "I have something for you."_

_Konoha kneels down, and shows him red –red-red-red-red-red-red-red-red—_

_Shintaro vomits all over the eyes of his friends._

_Konoha smiles patiently, murmurs assurances – "it's not over yet" – and heads toward Momo to stop her blank gaze and bring them to Shintaro._

_Shintaro screams.)_

A hero goes through lots of things to become one! Lots and lots of things. But it's easy for a hero to be painted red.

_(Kido's body is a mangled mess, almost entirely, mercifully, covered by the hungry snakes. But up in the second floor, Shintaro can still hear her cries, the groans of a person hanging on by taut threads, screams of dying hope and quite pleads._

_Her eyes are guarded by a hazy barrier and tears, but when their eyes meet and she closes her eyes and smiles—_

_Shintaro shoots her.)_

Oh, a hero gains friends! A hero is happy and has a family. He loves, his heart is open and pure and he understands.

_(He's surprisingly gentle with him, after killing all his friends, Konoha is close; so close his breath warms Shintaro's neck. Konoha is hugging him._

_Shintaro's neck snaps.)_

A hero is selfless. A hero fulfills promises, Shin-taro-kun.

_(Red scissors._

_"You promised the queen."_

_Snakes._

_Marry._

_She's crying—_

_I don't—_

_I'm not a hero._

_I want to be the one to kill myself for once._

_Maybe…if I die, maybe the tragedy won't happen. Because…because Tateyama would need my eyes and if they aren't there…_

_If I'm dead…_

_And maybe this is a nightmare and the only way out is through this._

_"I died. I'm sorry."_

_Lonely phrases._

_"Shall we say our farewells?"_

_Please don't say them—_

_Don't leave me!)_

Of course, a hero doesn't break under his fate. A hero is too strong for that, a hero will always caress the border between sanity and breaking, will be close to it, but they won't break.

They're too strong.

_(Shintaro doesn't want to open his eyes. He doesn't want to see Ene again._

_If he doesn't see it, it isn't real. He hasn't just seen his new found friends die again. Hasn't become attached to them. Hasn't been hurt to see they didn't feel the same way, because they didn't know him._

_He knew them._

_They didn't know him._

_"Master!" Ene's undeniable voice screeches near his ear, "Wake up! Now! Or else those pictures of your will be all over the internet…Ten! Nine! Seven! Four! Two! One! Aaand…Master? Half! Point 49! Point! 48!"_

_Ene is quite for a few moments. Shintaro tries to breathe._

**I can't take it anymore.**

_"Then scream," the snake suggests and every single good end in sight goes out the window. _

_Shintaro stops believing and hoping._

_Shintaro laughs. Then he starts crying. After that, he stuffs his face into his pillow and screams and screams and tries not to breathe when he can't scream anymore, just so that he'd suffocate or go unconscious. And nobody's there, because he has no friends, his sister has severed all bonds she had with him, and his mother is in the hospital dying._

_It's just him, Ene, and the snake._

_Ene. Poor, darling, Ene._

_Poor, dead, little Takene.)_

A hero is not someone that hurts another person or does bad things; they help people. A hero doesn't always fight crime. They don't even have to help people face to face; they could be designing a product that helps many people.

_(Ene's voice wakes him up. It's Saturday._

_Of course._

_It always comes back to Saturday._

_Ene is annoying, she keeps on talking and talking and making noise in his room, a room stranded from society, and Shintaro is glad._

_It's better than a silent, mute Ene._

_But Shintaro doesn't greet her, just stares at her pale face and it hurts._

_Again._

_How many times?_

_Fifty?_

_The outcome is always the same._

_Goddamn it._

_God damn it.)_

A hero cares and sacrifices a lot.

_(His entire world is once again straddling the border between death and life, borders fading into agony as long nails digs into his eye, as it burrows deeper and deeper, twisting into the soft flesh and eliciting scream after scream from him. He can hear the soft __squelch __as his eye is destroyed, can feel the __pop __as it's ripped from the socket. His remaining eye squeezes shut as Konoha laughs at him, tears flowing freely as blood oozes out of his new injury. He will never get used to the pain; it differs from first loop to second to third, this time he's choking on his own sobs as he pathetically begs for it to stop__.)_

And a hero is mad, the Mad Hatter is a hero, and they are always painted madder red.

Heroes die nobly! How could (you) ask for another, peaceful death? Or an instant one? Don't you want to be a hero…?

If so…

They always die in tragedy.

* * *

_"Shintaro no danna?_

_"Shin…?_

_"Ah, will you die today? You have a few more days left, do you want to sacrifice them?_

_"Let him die._

_"…are you sure?_

_"…_

_"…See, I told you, you're a hero._

_"You will always, always die."_

* * *

"…What are you doing?" Shintaro feels his world narrow down to Kuroha (that name suits him and lessens some of the heart ache; he's not Konoha anymore), the gun in his hand, and the long, long distance between them.

_This is wrong._

Kuroha smiles bitterly at them (at him), a long trail of clear _negatively emotional_ liquid drips down from his right eye (why is he _crying?_ He's never cried, always laughing and grinning sadistically). He's pressing a gun against his temple –

That idiot, Shintaro gapes, thatidiot_thatidiot_—

_I'm supposed to be the one facing your gun._

_Kano was._

_(Oh god, oh dear god—_

_"No, please, no, Konoha, please don't do this –"_

_"KANO!")_

_Ah, will you die today? You have a few more days left, do you want to sacrifice them?_

Shintaro's hands find themselves knotted into his pants into tight fists, and his heart is beating like the rain drops on the windows of his room during a terrifying storm (and he's not bothered because once you're chased down by a murderer again and again your heart is that by default).

Kuroha's lips let out whispers that can't be louder than breathes because Shintaro can't hear them; he just hears his heart, the rush of his blood, and the calm, serene voice of the snake in him.

…_are you sure?_

Shintaro rushes towards his (friend? Murderer?) _Konoha_ as soon as he lowers his head so that he's smiling at them from underneath bangs that shadow his eyes, coils his hand around his friend's gun grasping one, lowering it to almost exactly under his arm pits and pushes his friend's head back.

_Bang._

The air stills and its silent, it's suffocating and god damn it he feels like he's done something right but he doesn't want this; he knows there are wide eyes tracked on his back. Shintaro grins and opens his mouth to say something, and like a marionette detached from the strings controlled by the leering face (death) above him, he crumbles. Several heart wrenching screams rise from behind him.

Shintaro doesn't want them to cry for him. He feels frustration pool in his suddenly light head.

Stupid, stupid Kuroha wraps his arms around his shoulders halfway through so that when they fall on their knees Shintaro's fore head is pressed against Kuroha's chest.

_See, I told you, you're a hero._ The snake sounds empty.

Kuroha lifts his chin up, and it's strange, Kuroha is breathless and that's wrong and absurd; shouldn't the action be reversed?

Kuroha is looking at him with wide, traumatized eyes in a pale face, and his mouth is hanging slightly open. His lips twist and his teeth are biting into them.

Footsteps thunder near Shintaro and he's wrenched (gently, he's sure, but it feels like a nail deep in him is being wrenched out) and his back is on the ground. Several faces cover his view of the sky (which he suddenly wants to drink in desperately) and he hears an agonized, animalistic scream near him before he's in the source's lap.

Kuroha is crying.

"Sh-shintaro," Kido, he thinks it's Kido's green locks and twisting mouth, says in a breaking, angry voice, "don't close your eyes. Don't close them."

"Onii-chan." Momo gasps between tears, and her hands lift up to cover her face, all her face but her eyes. It's all she's capable of, gasping out 'onii-chan, onii-chan' like a mantra.

Seto's face is pale white, and tears drip on his face from him. In fact, salty drops of water fall on him from everyone, particularly Momo, but Konoha's tears are the most evident because he's never seen him tear up and his face is right above him. Seto's hands lean over Shintaro's body, not knowing what to do and terribly shaking.

"S…top crying," he whispers and his pronunciation is all wrong, but everyone is suddenly hanging on his every word, even Momo isn't crying loudly. "Is not supposssed to be like this; you're…s-suppood to be _happy."_

Again, it's all silent before he's roughly wrenched upwards and face to face with the most lying scumbag he's ever seen. Kano is straddling him and his eyes are wild and he's screaming at him, "Don't you dare, you bastard, don't you dare leave us. Stay awake you bastard, how dare you initiate that we'd be glad you'd die?! You fucking _coward_, don't leave, fucking goddamn bastard, don't dare—"

Momo's back to wailing frantically and Kuroha's forehead presses against his neck. Kuroha's roaring out in agonized pleads and curses, "No._ Don't, Shintaro, don't, you fucking idiot."_

Shintaro starts to use his gifted sarcastic tongue, and then breaks into whimpers. Or tries to; he's too busy wheezing and trying to breathe to really be able to reply, much less whimper.

Kuroha's arms tighten and Kano's gritting his teeth and screaming something about hospitals and paramedics and phones.

"D-don't b-bl-ame Kono." He's too far gone to much register anything other than Kano's panicked, crying face and his head trembling for some reason, possibly because of the sudden earthquake Konoha's shaking forehead is causing. "Be...happy..."

His ears are deaf, maybe from the crying or maybe it's because he's a crippled, dying mess on the floor.

_You will always, always die._

_"Can you hear me?" _is the last thing he hears, and it's the same voice of the person who haunts his dreams and reminds him to remember, to never forget.

Because that's all he's good at doing.

(And she's an idiot for thinking he could change anything.)

* * *

_Things had gone crazy._

_By the time I noticed_

_I couldn't tell anybody._

_"No, no, I don't want to be destroyed!"_

_Madder red eyes, please. No more._

_Don't bring ruin to anyone else's future_

_"If I had those red eyes myself, could I save someone's future?"_

"I'm sorry, Shuuya, your onee-chan isn't as tough as you thought she was."

**"…I'm actually really scared."**

_**Do you remember me?**_

_They all do in the end._

_Don't forget._

"Let's move on to more important questions. Questions you need to know the answer to, Shintaro-kun."

**"Why did I die?"**

_Happiness is a curious thing._

**"Can you hear me?"**

* * *

Shintaro is standing, a few meters to the side of Medusa, facing her body's sideways profile, loathing her, and recognizing his form, wrapping his arms around his knees and staring blankly at the ground. He pities him. He's surrounded by his memories (and feelings and pain) and he's alone with the person who caused it all.

Medusa is staring at Shintaro, but not at _him._ She's staring at him, that time he had committed suicide, but she isn't paying attention to him, now that he'd done soemthign right.

He **loathes **her**.**

Hilariously, this moment in time reminds Shintaro of one of the ancient Greek myth, about death and entering Hades' realm to be judged on by three judges who would inspect every single memory you contain, before deciding if you would go to Eternal Punishment or heaven or purgatory. Endless torture or eternal happiness or walking around with no memory, no purpose, nothing at all. Just a piece of walking soul torn from all the things essential to a soul.

And Medusa is a Greek myth, a hated villain, to be frank, and would have gone to Eternal Punishment had she been judged, had she been the Medusa from the tales he read.

The evil, demonic, misunderstood and pitiful creature. The villain. The one whom the hero has to kill to prove his worth - a sacrifice to the hero's rise to glory.

But instead, this woman isn't the same.

(Nothing's the same anymore.)

He hates her.

But he doesn't, really.

He used to hate her.

But now...

He knows how misunderstood she is. How sad her existence is. He knows, realizes, has wondered it during long nights, how similar she was to a human. And after hearing it from Marry herself - why Medusa had done what she had - and after piecing it together, after seeing her face every damn time he died. After that massive regret on her face, and the shining glint of her eyes that he's sure is tears, he can't help but forgive her for something she hasn't meant to do. She's Medusa, but that's just a name. And a name makes her more humane (which isn't something she should feel she has to be, really).

And isn't that what she is, just a caged existence?

"That's a peculiar way of thinking." Her voice is ancient; unused. It trembles slightly and changes pitches over letters until she sounds like a broken music player.

He doesn't bother driving the sudden haze of memories that shroud his eyes from really seeing the woman; he might jump on her and rip into her chest and squeeze around her heart. Past Shintaro doesn't bother, either.

He doesn't look also because he knows what he will find. Disgust and close mindedness and discrimination of his race and deep, deep sympathy shrouded by a cloak of heavy blankness.

Shintaro has gotten better at seeing people.

(Knowing them.

Ah, isn't that what got him closer with Kano?

…yes, Kano has always hated Shintaro's ability to see through him. He loathed Shintaro, but he also had desperate hope clearly painted all over his antics, and the way he always edged closer and closer to him was obvious. Shintaro is a genius, after all, with an IQ higher than Einstein's, and Kano is a human who lusts for risks and freedom.)

He closes his eyes, but it's futile; his memories are passing through his retina, his eye lids aren't important.

Shintaro is a disgusting, selfish, apathetic human.

(The perfect type to survive.)

It…hurts. It really hurts.

It's not the physical pain of digging your eyes too hard into your knees, as Past Shintaro is currently doing. The physical pain of gouged out eyes, of stabbed hearts and swallowing metallic liquid and burning lungs and throats, of being shot until he looks like he wrapped some kind of torn blanket around him instead of skin, riddling with holes and representing his state. It isn't the pain of tumbling three stories head first, or being disemboweled.

Those physical pains didn't come close to what he felt.

The pain that has him closing his stinging eyes is the feeling of his friends' hands wrapping around his heart and _squeezing, _of his sister's heartbroken shrieks deafening him, of tears travelling down his spine and the cold realization of betrayal and helplessness and fear dawning on him.

It's knowing what will happen, how they will die, how they will cry and break—too late, and not doing anything. Or doing something, but it's too fucking late, Shintaro, you stupid, useless NEET, I hope you die, you fucking piece of worthless existence. It's never changing those deaths. It's waking up _again and again _and hoping _again again again _and then **dying.**

(It's watching yourself fail at your job, at being _"onii-chan!"_. At being a friend.)

It is the pain of being Kisaragi Shintaro. The pain of being a useless bastard apathetic cold idiotic traitorous weak big brother.

(Useless fake friend.)

And Shintaro (the big mess) was useless. He was a bad friend.

But not anymore.

Shintaro has redeemed himself. Ah, he's well aware redemption is not so easily gained, he's redeemed himself not in front of the universe, but in his own eyes.

He sacrificed himself for his friend with no side, selfish, thought.

Shintaro is satisfied, if only for the few moments resembling purgatory.

He forces himself to stand the instant the Medusa woman closes her eyes. When he passes her in a brisk walk, with a determined expression and the ghost of a smile (he _forgives _her), she steps back with wide alarmed eyes, something similar to pleasant shock and a bit of…pride, of something nice in her eyes.

(Shintaro wonders if in that moment she sees him or the snake in him.)

One step, two step, he blinks and he's standing in front of a window framing a dying sun and with his back pressed into the back of someone else. In the shadows of said dying sun was a rather familiar silhouette. Shintaro squints against the strong light to make out the shadow in the scene, even though he knows who it is.

(You can't see your dead first friend every time you try to rest and not be able to find her in any scenery, dark alleyway or magical sun kissed class room.

You can't forget when you clutch on to the past so tightly, when your eyes will remember every emotion, memory, death, and etcetera.)

He starts walking in a fast, determined way to his best friend.

Ayano peers up at him with blank eyes, and he doesn't bother returning the favor, just lets a grateful grin spread across his pale face and pouring every single emotion: hope, happiness, grief, gratefulness and regret into it.

Ayano stares at him in stunned silence and he can almost see the tip of her gaping mouth over her huge red scarf. Then, she's smiling her million watt cork screw smile and lowering her messy dark haired head with the two red pins barely hanging on, accepting—no, she has always accepted him— _forgiving_ him.

Shintaro feels his chest ache and then relax from his involuntary tenseness, and his cheeks ache from his happiness and eyes sting in relief.

Before he can start crying, Ayano unwraps her scarf and stands on her tip toes, encasing his own neck with her signature cloth, and she has a delighted, proud expression on her face. It makes him remember the times when she would insist on pretending to be a knight and asking him to repeat:

_"I'm honored to title thee as a noble knight, the protector of all who live in this kingdom."_

He'd glare at her and smack her head while she was smiling, and then she'd erupt into obnoxious laughs.

"I'm honored to call you a hero," Ayano softly whispers, "and a true friend." Her voice sounds slightly weird, like it was coming from everywhere around him, and it was so soft and distorted it seemed like it was fading and he almost didn't hear it.

His eyes widen at her actions and words, and he is made aware of the sudden burning behind his eyes and the tingling feeling spreading across his cheek bones.

Ayano fades and entwines with the orange sun rays until _orange_ and bruised _pink_ is a synonym of _Ayano_.

He was aware of a desperate, breaking cry from behind him.

He falters; he wants to give words he had needed desperately to his past self, but instead he just closes his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of soft fabric against his nose and mouth.

Shintaro finally let his tears slip.

(He suddenly wants badly to change everything.)

* * *

Kisaragi Shintaro was a genius seven year old boy. At least, that's what his parents kept on saying whenever they handed him textbooks and homework and signed him up for boring classes and bought him games like chess (which, honestly, he really liked). It was an excuse they used frequently whenever he'd stare up at them blankly with the beginning of a pout, that, unless you dealt with apathetic children every day, you wouldn't really notice.

Shintaro just wanted to read fiction books, interesting criminology text-books, how-to philosophical books, time travel theories, and play.

He'd really like to stray around the park with a friend and banter with them before it went into a full out friendly fight. Then, they'd play a game of 'Find the Treasure' or 'Hide and Seek' and it would be completely competitive and challenging. Finally, they'd buy sodas and sit down staring at the sun set in comfortable silence and start conversing in hushed whispers about urban legends and wishes and dreams and horror stories deep into the night all while staring at the stars. It would be dark and the only thing they'd focus on would be the sky and they'd be the only people existing for a night, before falling into a drowsy, content sleep.

Of course, they'd stay a feet or two away from each other, because as much as he identified the slight ache he felt occasionally as loneliness and longing for the magical term of friendship, Shintaro just wasn't that cliché and he didn't really like people. That was a trait of his she knew.

Shintaro didn't like people.

The only reason he had such fantasies was…okay, maybe he longed for mutual understanding and unbending loyalty, but they were really only fantasy terms his fiction books indoctrinated in him. He was sure that he really just wanted the 'complete understanding' part, not the friendship. Just…people who understood him.

He just wanted one person to understand him. No more. A..a friend who would completely understand him and wouldn't mind the dark traces in his personality, or his apathetic view of the world, or his horrible sarcastic and mean tendencies.

Nevertheless, that childish dream was too farfetched. His fellow classmates didn't understand his cynical views and pastimes and weren't really bothered to appreciate individuality, if their bullying was anything to go by with. His parents were entirely focused on turning him into a success story and their legacy. They wanted a perfect eldest daughter to take their name to high places, until 'Kisaragi' was a famous household term and children aspired to be 'Shintaro' and parents envied and modeled themselves after the 'Kisaragi adults', although his father certainly was less strict and bought him a lot of sodas with a wink and a bright, sly smirk.

On the other hand, they seldom paid as much attention to Momo. Oh, they cared for him more than they cared for Shintaro (because they couldn't make a genius emotional. They needed a strong, slightly distant person to lead the family, not a dependent, emotional one), but their antics were mostly centered on him: Take Shintaro to the scientific center, let him meet the children of that business woman, don't forget to drop him at the library, buy him a couple of textbooks from the fifth grade section of the elementary school store, and don't forget to check for marital arts classes for both of the kids. And buy Momo a toy, dear.

They had hoped, that by turning the genius of the children into the head, they would gain reputation and success, and then said genius would continue providing for parents that way because of gratefulness. That child would be the legacy they left on the entire country. The rest of the children would be cared for on hope that they would care as much for them as they grow older and they would leave an emotional important to one person so that they would be loved and remembered immensely after their death. After all, humans were selfish and feared being way, they would leave a legacy on the future generations of the Kisaragi family, and their names would be traded in stories and tales.

Also, the eldest child would be the caretaker of the younger child, teaching them ideals and giving them childish love and friendship and rivalry, things the parents couldn't give.

Honestly, that was what Shintaro guessed it would be. And Shintaro also guessed Momo was desperate for attention from her foolish antics and weekly fits.

It was funny how one strived for attention and the other tried to escape it. How one received care and another had to give and long for it.

Shintaro thanked God his bed was right besides the window, and while it was completely frightening and it was hard to find a star in the middle of the city, Shintaro pressed his forehead to the cool glass and searched the sky for miniscule beacons of light.

There were none. For some reason, Shintaro's heart sank and his eyes burned. It felt like he was being denied her wish - right before he asked for it. Not being able to see stars, Shintaro realized, made the connection between him and the universe disappear, maybe even a part of his soul, and just increased Shintaro's suspicions that he was just dreaming. Dreaming everything - 'kaa-san and 'tou-san and Momo and Kisaragi Shintaro - up.

Silently, he pressed his palm against the glass screen separating him from the sky, and while it felt a bit ridiculous to be asking for such idiotic wishes and even researching about how to do it, he still managed to breathe out.

"Star light, Star bright, the first Star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, Have the wish I wish tonight. I wish for..." he trailed off, "I wish I could be a hero, with friends and living and happy and - and..."

He swallowed. "Thank you." he meekly whispered, and felt his eyes burning. His throat went dry, and something in him, once nothing changed, left him.

It was the next August day when Kisaragi Shintaro finally realized what came with being a hero, and that wishing was very dangerous.

* * *

Shintaro blinked continuously as he sat on one of the dinner table chairs, but trying to blink away the clutches of dazed sleep proved futile, so instead he let his chin attach to the table and looked at his food from under thick lashes.

"_Shintaro_," his mother immediately scolded, "its bad manners to sleep during a meal."

"But I'm not, kaa-san," he replied. Her mother showed her distaste at Shin's defiance through her tight lipped frown. Her mother didn't like retorts.

Thankfully, tou-san had told her a long time ago that Shintaro was a defiant, dominant person, much like her and could she please encourage her sharp tongue?

"Well, then, have some good form." And then her mother went on eating and fussing over Momo who didn't like peanut butter, and really didn't want to eat it.

Shintaro sat straighter and tried not to face slam into the plate.

It was a good thing peanut butter sandwiches were good cushions.

Momo turned her bright eyes on him and gasped. "You like peanut butter?"

Shintaro nodded.

Momo sent him a conspiring look and Shintaro quirked his lips _slightly_ upwards; it wasn't good to let their mother get suspicious when her usually blank faced, sometimes smirking son sent an evil smirk to her youngest daughter, weather because she suspected potential homicide or food swapping, but there had to be a clue that the other participating party in the conspiracy was really participating and not just blinking some dust from her eyes, thus the slight smile.

The moment their mother turned her gaze downwards to her plate, Shintaro shot his hand under the table to Momo's waiting hand and took the sandwich. He munched into it, effectively stuffing half of it into his mouth and returned the sandwich via the 'under table subways'.

What they both didn't expect was the sudden appearance of a leg between them. Lifting his eyes towards Momo's in hope that it was hers, he was met with disgruntled gray eyes.

_So it wasn't Momo_, Shintaro resigned himself to destiny and faced his mother.

His mother's smile was cherubic and she looked at him from underneath thick lashes.

"Aw…" Shintaro half pouted with his stuffed cheeks.

* * *

Shintaro carefully lugged two suitcases up the stairs. It felt uncomfortable having something shoved into his armpits just to keep it still because the suitcase was big. Really big, as in taller-than-Shin-gasp!-big.

Tou-san was two steps ahead of him, singing curses under his breathe and smelling like women's perfume (because most of his colleagues were female) and ink. He held a giant, fifty kilo suitcase that was dancing in his hands.

Warily, Shintaro stepped to the right and hurried up so he wouldn't be behind it when it fell.

And it _would_ fall.

Two steps from the second floor and he learned a new curse as the bag danced out of his father's hold.

A hand clamped over his shoulder. He turned to find his dad's orange eyes tightly closed and his cheeks turning red from anger.

It was adorable. If tou-san knew about how much people thought him adorable, he'd have went on a murderous spree.

Shin quirked his lips downwards in the clarification that by default, he'd be adorable too; people said he resembled him. Same sharp intense eyes, same childish features, same lean and skinny body. His father was attractive, and so he had to admit he felt an ego inflation surgery occurring in her mind, but being attractive meant women and men bothered you a lot. Being adorable meant lots of pinching and cuddles and kaa-san pinning his tou-chan to the wall.

Besides, Momo had the same childish face and orange eyes he had. Same optimistic personality too. So as far as he was concerned, Momo was going to be the attractive 'idol'.

"Shin-chan," 'tou-chan said, a pout flickering on his lips, "wanna go buy soda later?"

"Yes!" he grinned widely and then started standing on his toes, then heels, and switching every few seconds, before wrapping his arms around her dad's shaking waist. "Want me to bring that suitcase up?"

Her dad stopped laughing momentarily to shake his head. "Nah. I can carry it myself…I just wish it could be less slippery! I swear, it feels like I'm holding a snake."

Shintaro nodded, "and should I put those bags in your room?"

'Tou-chan replied in a soft, incomprehensible voice and a thumbs up as he walked down the stairs. "Seriously," Shintaro made out, "…snake…bag…rot in hell…"

He let a silly, relieved grin loose; the happiness in the house was back. The family just didn't feel complete without all of the members.

He swiveled on his heels, suitcases in hand, and dragged them to his dad's room. He inhaled as soon as he reached the door and held it in as he kicked open the door.

His eyebrows furrowed when the door didn't open. A dash of red appeared over his cheekbones as he glanced around for an invisible audience. _Of course _the door wouldn't open. It had a handle – anything short of breaking the handle wouldn't open the door.

How very genius of you, Shintaro_-kun._

Oh. Wow. Shintaro quickly memorized the room's details. Shintaro and Momo weren't given a free pass into their parent's bedroom –something about privacy and whatnot- thus the few times they had an excuse to sneak in they tried to lengthen the time spent in the spacious room.

The nice thing about the room was the large window covering the wall almost entirely. It was right over Shin's parent's bed, and the room always smelled like a garden. The nature-like atmosphere increased because of the colorful see-through fabric covering the window.

'Kaa-san sat at her drawer, sorting through her drawers for 'tou-chan's gift. Shin had noticed his mother almost frantically combing through every store inside Tokyo Avenue, despite some stores being way too expensive for their middle class status, for 'the perfect one'. 'Tou-chan was the photographer of a group of architects whom were very interested in myths and legends. He used to work in a magazine before he had gotten his 'sweet job'. Now, he travelled a lot with his group and grew in touch with his paranormal side.

"Shintaro," his mother regarded him, "your father is coming up stairs?"

"Yes, 'kaa-san."

'Kaa-san sighed and let her fingers pass through her scalp, untangling nonexistent knots of black hair. She stayed quite for a while longer, before turning her head towards Shintaro. "Would you distract him?"

Shintaro smirked. "'Course, 'kaa-san."

A smile played on her lips. "Thank you."

Shintaro hesitated at the door. His cheeks flushed an obvious red hue. "I wish I smelled good." He mumbled.

Her mother's eye softened. Silently, she grabbed a glass tube (one that was unisex, and not entirely feminine) and beckoned Shintaro with her hand.

'Kaa-san touched the area behind Shintaro's ears. It felt cool and smelled extravagant, like pineapple gum and, if the label on it was correct, orchard blossom. Shin almost let out a sigh. He'd always liked pressing cool things to his back or ears. When 'kaa-san slyly slid it along his collarbone, he shuddered and curled his toes and hands inwards; his neck had always been sensitive.

His mother lifted the glass tube and gently pushed him. "Now go. Don't let him up for a few minutes."

Shintaro humored the idea of saluting her, but thought otherwise and left the room.

As Shintaro ran towards the stairs, he saw Momo shyly chattering with their dad at the foot of the twenty step stairs, holding onto her dad's sleeve and adamantly refusing to understand his 'I gotta go see my waifu' cues, and fondly thought, '_Good old Momo'_, he hurried his pace for his mother's sake and managed to noticed the sudden, large snake climbing the side of the stairs. He opened his mouth to scream but found himself momentarily in the air with the thick, long snake wrapped around his legs before gravity took over.

The last thing he heard was a sickening crack and Momo's—

—_gasps between tears, and her hands lift up to cover her face, all her face but her eyes. It's all she's capable of, gasping out 'onii-chan, onii-chan' like a mantra—_

—and all he can see is more of those damned snakes—

—_Kido's body is a mangled mess, almost entirely, mercifully, covered by the hungry snakes—_

—and then he's swallowed—

_-he dies-_

* * *

_W-where am I?_

Shintaro wakes up enveloped in strangling darkness, tangible, and, with no small amount of horrification at this realization, capable of moving. He struggles, tries to get out the hell out of there while voice in his head screams at him, about how he's _going to die, you idiot, you apathetic waste of humanity, get the hell out of here _and saying he's terrified is just so hilarious he starts weeping. He's blind and bound.

_Not again not again not again _the voice screeches at him. For a second, he screams back that **he's** the sub-human, screaming like a cornered animal, screaming at a clueless, dying little boy.

"Welcome," a serene female murmurs, and her murmur is so loud, it's coming from everywhere, "to the heat haze, Shintaro-kun."

…Heat haze? It's cold. This is no heat haze. In that moment, the dark patch in his eyes shifted and he felt bile rise up his throat, burning it.

Snakes. The black mass surrounding him were hundreds upon hundreds of writhing black _snakes, _and they're binding him down and slithering around his body and he doesn't even notice because _it feels normal. _The barrier of cloth and skin didn't keep them from attaching themselves to him like an extendable body part and Shintaro finally, finally realizes how right the voice is. He is sub-humanity if the one, _massive _snake that was away from the rest of the horde with the disgusting smile carved on her face and the glittering, affectionate black eyes she had feels like part of Shintaro. He's disgusting because -

-because he thinks the snake is him, and that's not possible, is it? He can't be Kisaragi Shintaro and snake at the same time.

-_ and just increased Shintaro's suspicions that he was just dreaming. Dreaming everything - 'kaa-san and 'tou-san and Momo and Kisaragi Shintaro - up_ -

It's just not...not possible. Just a nightmare. He hit his head hard and he's currently in a coma, and his mother is untangling his hair strands while Momo is cutting off the blood circulation in his hand and slobbering all over his shirt, and 'tou-chan was buying sodas for their anime marathon, waiting in anticipation for him to wake up.

"But of course, this is not the usual heat haze. You two are special, special people. You're heroes, and today you're going to realize what it means to be one. Good luck, Shin-ta-ro-danna and Shin-ta-ro-chan-"

…-danna?

"May the best hero survive!"

* * *

**Meanings: **Shintaro no danna: Master Shintaro. The snake uses it to refer to the older Shintaro, and also to tease him and as a sign of growing respect and affection. This is a pretty ancient endearment, because the snakes are ancient.

Shintaro-danna: a shorter version of it.

**A/N: **_Why yes, yes I did just pit two Shintaros against each other. Am I not awesome?_

_Anyways, if you have any questions, submit them in a review or PM me. Some questions might be featured in a FAQ at the end of a chapter just to clear up any messes. I hope you continue reading this story :)_

_My last warning is: _**Alternate Timeline and Universe ahead! Yaoi ahead! Angst and dark themes ahead! Actual friendship ahead! I warn thee, I am a bit sporadic in my updating schedule and might put this story on hiatus during school weeks.**

_Leave a review?_

**Hopeless Desires.**

**P/S: **If there's anybody who has read the manga and is a decent beta editor, would you mind becoming my advisor? I don't have WIFI during the day and I haven't read the manga yet, and I need to go through the canon events I'm going to butcher with someone more sane and neat. Basically, someone who could add details to some of my vague description and give me detailed criticism of my chapters.

**Question: **Third person present tense or past tense?

**EDIT: NO MORE FEMALE SHINTARO**

**ALSO - WOW, THIS WAS THE FIRST FEMALE SHINTARO FANFICTION, HUH? At least, on ffnet.**


	2. zombies and second chances

**.**how to be a **friend.**

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Kagepro belongs to Jin and whoever helped in the process of making it. The plot of this fanfic belongs to me. This disclaimer will have to tide you over for the rest of the fic, because I'm not repeating this.

* * *

**It is important to read this, **as a lot of you (reviewers) are saying you didn't get some parts of the last chapter. I'll explain at the A/N at the end of the chapter. To make sure that you all understand this chapter, read:

In chapter two, Older!Shintaro and Younger!Shintaro get stuck in the heat haze. The heat haze is a zombie AU.

This chapter was supposed to finish a year of Shintaro's life but it's over 8K so :( _because everyone doesn't want to sit and read 11k words._

Also, bear with me for the first three chapters. They're a bit angsty. Mostly because ch01 had Shin dying, ch02 had the heat haze, ch03 will have – what. Is. This. Are you trying to get spoilers, idiots? /no offense intended.

* * *

Also, **past Shintaro is now a male. No Fem!Shintaro anymore – physical yaoi, now :)****. **And, in Japan, a kid reaches adulthood at twenty, so Shintaro will me treated like a kid. Which an eighteen year old already is, since there's a teen at the end of the word. One of the things that pisses me off in some writing is the disregard toc ultural differences.

* * *

**Pairings **shall be voted on. By default, it is kokoshin and kanoshin, but if you want some hints at other pairings, like MarrySeto (in that order) or HibiShin (that would be interesting) vote on my future poll :)

* * *

**\ . . . **Hoping_ that I'll never have to say  
it's just an illusion, illusion, illusion  
Follow your emotions anywhere  
is it really magic in the air?_

**.**

_Could it be that it's just an illusion  
putting me back in all this confusion?_ **. . . \**

**. imagination . just an illusion .**

. . . * . . .

**Chapter **02 has _zombies and second chances_

. . . * . . .

Shintaro stares at the vendor. He stares at the red sodas in the machine, and then sighs. For some reason, the tingling feeling in his cheekbones still hasn't left, nor has the burning in his eyes lessened, and the involuntary quirk in his lips is adamant to stay.

Shintaro lets it stay, but he still sighs. He doesn't exactly remember what he was doing. Something that had to do with…Ayano? Yes, Ayano. And he was dead, wasn't he?

_Nonsense_, a thought stands out in Shintaro's empty mind, _I wouldn't be staring at soda if I was dead._

A thought about how heaven probably had sodas and negimamas, immediately follows –

Negi…mama? Shintaro's chest aches. Was he…did he repeat the loop? …Yes, that must have been it. But why was he in front of a soda machine in a grocery store, and not in his bed?

Shintaro surveys the aisle. There isn't anybody, and he doesn't hear a single footstep or a breath close by. For some reason, Shintaro feels wary. This silence is eerie; there are always people in a grocery store.

Maybe, a thought occurs in his mind, he had sleepwalked here? Yes, it must've been early in the morning, around three AM for it to be this silent.

But, and a glance at his outfit backs his thought, why wasn't he wearing his pajamas?

Sleepwalking, he repeats after a momentary stillness. Some quite part of his mind sings how this was really similar to a psychological horror movie, and how he really fit the role of the 'young disturbed boy' or 'eerie scizo kid' or even 'the guy in the coma'.

Or, 'the junkie punk'.

Shintaro, who didn't used to be that brave, but after consistent horror movie esque time loops didn't give two shits about comas or mental illnesses, walks out of the aisle and blinks at the decidedly _empty _grocery store. His last bet are the counters, and as he approaches them he notices a black haired little boy standing with his back facing him and his front facing an empty counter. He narrows his eyes.

_Seee, _the musical part of his brain from before taunts, _horror movie!_

"Hello?" he says. The boy doesn't turn around. Hesitantly inching closer to him, he walks a few steps to the right and notices that he's holding one of these toys you hang over a baby's crib, the galaxy ones with a lot of stars. He stares with half lidded, far away eyes at the empty counters.

Deciding that the absence of scary background music was positive, he pokes the boy's tiny shoulder. He feels a tug on his 'man-man' strings when he noticed how young the little boy was – not fourteen young, but seven or six young. It helps that his profile is adorable in its adult expression of stoniness and his eyes are sleepy looking. For some obscure reason, familiarity rears its head at Shintaro, and there's a thick, drowsy atmosphere shrouding the boy, drawing him in and at the same time making it harder to remember.

"What are you doing?"

The boy doesn't answer.

"Are you alone?"

The boy doesn't answer.

"Where's your family? Also, where are _we?_"

The boy mutters something, and Shintaro steps back in surprise at his reply. He blinks. "Come again?"

"Waiting."

He blinks – he doesn't think that's what he said, he thinks he said "suffocating" – but then dismisses it, _for now,_ to ask if he is alone.

The boy is silent for a moment longer, before he finally looks up at him with confused dark eyes. "I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I think I…left them."

Shintaro feels frustration pool in his stomach at the boy's obscure, nonsensical answers. "Who?"

"I don't know." The boy is quite before he adds, "Are you alone?"

Shintaro stiffens; he feels like this question isn't what it seems, and he can't help but picture his friend's faces and whispers, "No."

The boy looks down at his toy. "I see."

Shintaro follows his eyes and asks, "What's that for?"

"Wishes."

"Wishes?"

"Wishes."

Shintaro decides to stop asking. This boy is frustrating, confusing, and most of all, _interesting_. But his head hurts and he doesn't feel like asking anything other than his name. So he does just that, with every intention of sitting after that and…sleeping. Yes, sleep sounds good.

Until he hears his answer.

"Shintaro."

Shintaro's eyes snap open and he stares at…at 'Shintaro'. "Really?"

"Yes," the boy pauses. "Is something wrong?"

"No," he replies, "I just...find that hard to believe."

"Why?" he asks, and his sharp eyes fix on him. His eyes are intense and captivating, a sort of hidden sadness and clarification in them that reminds him of his morals as a fellow human being. AKA, take care of the poor little kid.

_Children shouldn't have such eyes. _

(He remembers the Mekakushi Dan. He remembers himself.

No, children shouldn't have those eyes, but why does he keep on subtracting himself from that fact? He's a child too.

Right?

…Right?)

"No reason," he replies softly.

The boy looks unconvinced, but he looks back at his toy and stares at it with burning desire and Shintaro frowns. He frowns, because children weren't supposed to be so passive, they weren't supposed to stop pestering for a good answer like that, and they certainly weren't supposed to have such…adulterated longing.

(Shintaro is reminded of himself. He remembers his eyes, even more intense, when he was young and didn't know how to put a barrier around his abilities. Shintaro can be as deceiving as Kano, and Shintaro is smart enough to come to conclusions about all of the Dan's personalities. They wouldn't like to face burning, knowing eyes every moment of the day, with pasts like their own. That, and almost every person he has met is wary of his eyes. So he doesn't look at them with his eyes.

He looks at them with blank eyes, eyes that belonged to him back when 'tou-chan died, when Ayano died, when Haruka and Takene died.

He's reminded of himself, seven and sad after he'd wished for something that had come true.

He wishes he hadn't wished that night.)

They stand in familiar silence, thick with drowsiness and patience. Shintaro is half sleeping, the boy is waiting, and they're both alone, despite Shintaro's denials.

"What's your name?" the boy murmurs after a few, long moments.

Shintaro open his eyes. He stares at the boy from under thick lashes as he stares at the counter. He wants to see his face, so he walks in front of him and brushes his fingers along the counter's surface and pretends it's a piano. He brushes his fingers gently against keys, and his ears hear a fading melody.

_You._

"Shintaro."

The boy stops staring at his fingers. He brings his gaze to his and says, "Oh."

_I hate you._

_I hate me._

"Oh," he agrees.

And then the glass doors break and Shintaro's questions are sated.

**. . . * . . .**

A few hours later, both Shintaros are holed up in a bathroom. It's a tiny space, but Shintaro had always been small for his age and the little boy was a tiny slip compared to him.

"I want 'kaa-san," the boy said. Shintaro was a bit surprised; he'd been in a state of shocked silence ever since they'd been ambushed by a cult of cannibals. They'd gotten out by pure luck, and the boy had proven his hiding skills were pretty damn good (a helpful factor was that he was small enough to fit in most places) while Shintaro had thrown a wide assortment of deadly vegetables, fruits, and knives, after he'd managed to stumble into the culinary aisle.

Shintaro didn't reply. What was he supposed to say? Besides, he was one hundred percent sure this was some nightmare. "Well," he said, "you're going to wake up, sooner or later."

The boy was sullen as he replied. "It's not a dream. I checked."

He rolled his eyes. "And I'm supposed to believe a figment of my imagination?" He kept his tone light, trying not to make the kid burst crying and attract the cannibals out in the grocery store. Hopefully, none of the women cannibals would feel like relieving themselves…or maybe they'd think he was that ghost haunting the third bathroom stall in the women's bathroom.

The boy pinched him. Keeping in a curse of outrage, he glared at him. The boy stiffened at his pretty scary glare, eyed his empty, toy-ridden hands (a cannibal had grabbed it) and muttered, "See."

He sighed through his nose, but a corner of his lips twitched. God, this boy really reminded him of himself. Well, he supposed if this was a dream, then the boy was probably his conscience or something. Unfortunately, he had nothing now.

What a freaking realistic dream.

"Hey," he said, waiting till he looked up at him warily, "I don't feel like calling a clone of myself by my name. What else can I call you?"

The girl's hands fumbled together, trying to fit into some sort of intricate pattern of fingers and nails molded against each other. "Why do I…why do _I_ have to change my name?"

Spunky kid. He blinked. Why not him? He'd always wanted to change his name to some other one that didn't sound like Hamtaro the Mouse/Animal/Cutie Patootie Pet.

"Konoha," he said, and for some obscure reason he kept on expecting Konoha to be standing behind him and creep the hell out of him with his silent footsteps and sudden "Shintaro"s. "Konoha's good."

The boy nodded once, and suddenly the heavy bathroom door creaked open.

Shintaro flinched, Shin (his clone's nickname) trembled, and they were both reminded of them wasting their time without thinking of a strategy.

**. . . * . . .**

Shintaro is sitting inside the car. It doesn't matter how he got there, when he got there, what he _did –_

Repress.

He's sitting there, when he should be gone with the wind by now, just to make sure the kid he'd dropped off at his house was fine. Not out of affection or some hidden caring trait. Not at all. Just moral obligation.

_This world is absolutely insane_, he thinks as he watches, through his binoculars, distant women and men, some dressed in pajamas, others in birthday suits, and a bunch in towels, who stumble around, entering house after house, dragging the area for humans.

Shintaro, hiding in a car in the backyard of the house, is doing the same. Except he doesn't intend to eat the humans' brains once he finds them.

His finger twitches against the steering wheel as he thinks out a morbidly humorous documentary while he watches them. A part of his mind is solely devoted on thinking _what if there were other zombies here. What if the distraction didn't work and not all of the zombies headed towards the Avenue? _Another small part, the logical, purely survivor part keeps on screaming at him to get out of there, because he really had no obligation of any sorts towards the little kid when the world was shattered and there was no such thing as morals. Another, larger part was scoffing and declaring that leaving him was absolutely inhumane – and, of course, a thought follows this and tells him _remember when you left Kido behind because you knew she couldn't be saved just to check on Momo? She could've lived, you know _– and a thought followed, something about keeping his morals and his life with a strategic clearing-out-of-the-area back up plan, and a main plan to watch the house for a few minutes before going in.

Shintaro lets his bipolar mind divide into parts, lets it lament about his unfortunate heroic quirks while it strikes up a plan, and worries about the boy who was _really late_.

Well, Shintaro was the one who told Shin to reassure him about the state of his house. He shouldn't have felt him go in alone – and he told Shin that – but the boy insisted that he wanted to go in alone. Shintaro did not respect that. Still, the boy said he'd bolt out at the sign of trouble or tell him if he found his family.

And here he was now, worrying about his mental health (which already had some pretty deep issues) and the brat, while wondering why this house was so familiar.

Until he turned to his left to check out the area and found a face misting up the window, eyes red at the corners and lips twitching, a hand raised to the window, about to knock.

Shintaro – who had experience with sudden popping faces – manages not to yelp and instead cusses softly, backing off and literally sitting in the passenger seat.

Shin, whose eyes are glowing humorously (a part of Shintaro disagrees; the glow in his eyes doesn't look like emotion. More like liquid) raises a hand and then hurriedly travels around the car, pausing by the door of the passenger door to pointedly glance at Shintaro, who finally opens the lock, and then he wrenches it open.

"You know," Shintaro comments, "not all people are as slow to react as I am. Most people would have shot you if you'd done that. Try not to kill yourself when half the country already wants to."

Shin clutches the passenger door handle in his hand with a frown. Shintaro realizes that his lips weren't twitching – they were trembling. "There is no need for sarcasm. Or self-degradation." He throws in a couple of full, bulging backpacks and climbs in the car before slamming the door shut and buckling his seatbelt. "There. You can go now." he adds helpfully, staring grimly at a knife in his hand, dirty with blood, and turns it in his hand. He glances at Shintaro, an eyebrow raised in silent questioning, although his eyes were anxious and completely nervous, before he turns to stare out his window.

Shintaro promptly realizes he was staring with wide eyes at the audacity of the boy and promptly narrows them.

Well.

He almost asks bluntly about what happened. He would have, two weeks (that go again and again and again) ago when he was a social idiot who had nada ideas how to treat fellow human beings that might have been possibly traumatized.

So.

He shuts up and moves the car, pretends not to notice when Shin's tense shoulders relax, and the sheen of his eyes when he bites into a sandwich later on.

**. . . * . . .**

It turns out Shintaro doesn't have to bother trying to figure out Shin's memories of the house and empathize. Or whatever bullshit the shrinks in the internet wrote. That's good – Shintaro has an allergy towards shrinks and anything associated to them.

Because Shintaro figures it out his own way.

It goes like a story:

He tells Shin to hide while he finds his family's state in the house. There is nothing to find out about when Momo attacks him and his mother is wasting in a hospital, surrounded by infected and most likely –

He walks back outside, with fresh blood on his hand and one more fault to regret.

Shin's eyes are knowing. They bond over it, while they munch on sandwiches and Shin tells him stories of his own sister. About sweaty palms pressed together, ice cream in free hands and tired, sleepy eyes. Of two children leaning on each other, walking down the street after a long, tiring shopping day, aka sibling bonding time about the horrors of shopping for anything but toys or books (his little sister disagreed). Of the occasional summer breeze and the 'under table subway'. He talks avidly, happily about a dad who doesn't pressure, who buys sodas and hides them in the laundry basket, because _God knows 'kaa-san doesn't approach our clothes_. It's an allergic reaction, he says. He doesn't say any names - just female pronouns for his little sister and 'tou-chan and 'kaa-san. And then, when the haze of happiness simmer down, when he forgets the feeling of undeniable surety of alive family members, his eyes gain a hollow look that defines the tired shadows on his face and prominent cheekbones. Shintaro, for a terror filled moment can hear the thoughts: _forget forget repress forget forget_.

It's not good. That's not good at all. Shintaro has studied defense mechanisms – he can definitely see the repression and denial mechanisms activating in Shin. Burying memories and forgetting about them subconsciously, continuing on in life without admitting that the memories happened, living with the effect but not realizing _why _he couldn't get attached to people. Why he feared people. Why he didn't want friends, hated red, why –

_Weren't they fucking talking about Shin?_

Shin needs help. **Shin needs help. **

Shintaro can see the future – and he is relying on the past. It is not happy. (Wanting to remember forever, forget forever, deny forever.)

Then, Shintaro grabs his arm and pushes Shin into his side, "Thank you," he mutters, but lets a genuine, fond grin overcome his features. And maybe it's a bit hopeless, a bit stupid, and that's why they don't say it out loud, but the both of them vow silently in the summer hate haze of August fifteen that they'd try to make a new family.

But, the above is just a story.

Just a story.

_Repress._

**Deny.**

**. . . * . . .**

Four days after they escaped the grocery store through a window in the bathroom – after killing the teenage girl who had walked in with a carved smile and her abdominal organs barely staying in her body –, three days after Shin and the House, one day after Shintaro and his own house, the two kids found themselves in an old apartment.

Shin had spent five minutes breathing like he'd never experienced running from homicidal cannibalistic maniacs before, while Shintaro had immediately started searching for a way out.

(Perhaps Shin had noticed his level-head after he murdered a kid who was barely a teenager and probably was only a first year in high school. He had stared at him with wary, fearful eyes but hadn't run away from him. Shin seemed smart – he probably noticed that his only chance of surviving cannibalistic murderers was by accompanying a civil murderer not hell bent on eating her nor hesitant about saving their skin, but still kept wary from sitting too closely to him.

A part of Shintaro wanted to coldly slap him with the fact that that wasn't a level head – that was called ruthlessness, immorality, and cold-blood. Only insane people and murderers weren't bothered with their first kill, especially when said first kill was a child.

Thankfully, Shin hadn't stayed like that for long. After he went in the House, he came out open minded and understanding.)

They'd stumbled into the streets and found them evidently clear. They'd had a five minute head start down the street before a group of _zombies _(Shintaro wasn't going to lie again) strolled around the corner.

After that, they stuck to usually empty places. Stinky bathrooms, abandoned apartments, dirty, on sale motels and half built buildings. Places that were generally 'no-go' in a low budget horror movie, but in a zombie apocalypse where zombies were the humans who avoided those areas before they got infected, said areas were your best bet.

Shin had made a point of keeping an eye on Shintaro, and practically cuddled him in his sleep just to make sure he wouldn't leave, or get taken away by decaying arms. Like tangling their limbs would help them run away from zombies faster.

"Thank god." Shintaro sighed in relief, tightening his hold on the peanut butter jar. "There's food."

Shin twitched in acknowledgment. Shintaro inwardly sighed; the little boy had become strangely reserved and silent the past day, after he'd killed an elder lady. He'd be back to normal soon enough – right now, he was just accepting what happened. It was better than denying it. Shintaro had started _smiling _just to make sure he'd offer as much of psychologically stable early childhood for Shin through a good, sane brother figure, and if anyone asked –

Asked…'d be shocked he'd smiled.

Asked…who…?

Shintaro frowned; what was he thinking again? Something about how it was a bit odd for him to smile…but why? Why did he think that? Wasn't smiling in relief and to soothe Shin a major activity he'd done the past four days?

…Shintaro really needed some sleep.

"Konoha." Shin tugged at his sleeve, his lips twitching into an involuntary pout. "…'m hungry."

Shintaro swatted the hand sneaking towards a piece of bread. "Wash your hands first."

Shin gave him a look that said _we're in a zombie apocalypse and you're worried about hygiene?_

Shintaro shot back with a look that said _I think we have enough problems in our hands as it is to bother worrying about infection because we ate with bloody hands. _He paused and then gave him a _pun not intended _look.

Shin rolled his eyes.

Shintaro gave him the Look.

_Crash._

Shin finally met his eyes with wide, brown eyes. "…patrol." He mouthed, amongst other negative things, before returning to his barely breathing silence. Shin stepped closer to Shintaro, close enough to press his shoulder to Shintaro's thigh.

They'd forgot to check out the apartment.

An old woman stepped through the door, dressed in robes and missing a huge chunk from the back of her scalp. She had her mouth opened in a moan and stood there staring at them with black eyes, a mug of coffee dangling from one hand, the dark liquid dripping in a steady stream from the mug.

Shintaro and Shin stared back at her.

The woman threw herself at Shintaro and the silence was broken. Shin threw himself behind the kitchen counter and Shintaro took a plate from behind him and threw it at the woman's face. She paused for a moment, long enough for Shintaro to grab a weapon and leap out of her way.

Seriously, it was like Shintaro was the red cloth and the zombies were the angry bulls.

Shintaro brought up his weapon, and then let out a soundless hiss – his weapon was a damn detergent!

What was he supposed to do with that, clean the woman's mug of coffee?

Well, Shintaro paused, he could pour it on her eyes. Weren't detergents acidic?

Shintaro pressed the button as soon as the woman turned around and charged at him. Yellow gas (liquid?) rushed out of the detergent and the woman's gaping mouth drank it in.

Shintaro flinched. That probably wasn't healthy.

It was acidic, as he was shown once the woman shrieked and held her throat, the mug dropped to the floor and shattered with a shriek of its own, and Shintaro released the deadly cleaning liquid into her eyes.

"AGH!" the zombie shrieked.

Just as he was about to dart past her and get a knife, a metal, fin-like thing was produced from the woman's throat. She went quiet and dropped to the ground.

Behind her, stood Shin. He was handing on to the edges of the kitchen counter with his toes.

"There's another one?" he asked in a fast, hushed tone. Shintaro noticed how he didn't even look at the woman's corpse – perhaps he had realized how futile it was to hang on to humane morals when dealing with cannibal monsters. Perhaps.

"Because," he continued, "the woman must have gotten bit by someone – and the door was locked when we came in, yeah?"

"Agh," said the zombie.

Shintaro's eyes widened. "Look out!" He screamed, pushing him away from the falling teeth.

Oh…God. Shintaro stared at the mouth gnawing on his hand, couldn't tear his eyes away because –

Oh god.

His hand. His hand was getting eaten and then he'd turn into a zombie and Shin would be alone –

Shin would die, most likely.

Shintaro raised his leg and kicked at the man's stomach. He went back, but his teeth were adamantly attached to Shintaro's hand and he went stumbling after him.

Snarling with rage – _it was unfair, unfair _– he dropped his leg down on the man's head. Again and again. Kicked him for a good measure, and used the hand inside the zombie's mouth to press it forward and tear at the man's throat. He kept on bringing his feet down on the man's head, neck, and torso until he heard a satisfying snap, then he knelt down and scratched at the man's face with his other hand, broke his jaw to release his bitten hand, and punched the man's teary blue eyes.

When Shintaro finished with him, he looked like a hunk of meat with the body of a man.

Shintaro faced Shin's staring face. He looked stunned, but instead of staring at the mutilated zombie he stared at Shintaro's hand, cringing and looking like he didn't want to see. His charcoal eyes were wide when he finally looked up at him. Shin sniffled.

"No." His was a high pitched mumble, tangling the sounds of his runny nose and the cause of his reddening eyes. "No, please don't leave. It can't be – it's not fair."

Shin looked like a seven year old. And wasn't that what he was?

Shintaro wanted to hug him. Instead, he grit his teeth and hurried to the kitchen counter, to the knife sitting there. He ignored the screams of _don't, Konoha, don't _that tangled with other _don't_s he'd said to someone else who had the same name…

He didn't really remember much of that person, and he was in a race here, against his death and possibly Shin's death. He tied his hand, which had three less fingers, and thanked god he knew about tourniquets.

He brought the knife down.

_Ow, _a numb part of him said, _that hurts. A lot. Ow!_

When he finished, he turned to the silent form of Shin. At some point, a hand had latched on to his shirt's back and fisted into it. Shin eyed him with guilty charcoal.

"Sorry," he said, "it's my –"

"Don't you dare say it's your fault," he cut in. "It wasn't. Don't keep on – on remembering this. Don't record it. I'd gladly do anything to save you, a puny hand won't keep me from protecting my friends." He paused and let a small, genuine smile slip through his strict, angered face. "So long as you be more careful, and don't die, I'll consider your paid me back. Got it?"

Shin nodded, bewildered.

"Good. Because it's about time we talked through what we're going to do in the long run. This is probably some sort of infection." Shintaro shrugged, smiled a litte. "Maybe it was a mass war weapon, maybe it was some sort of tiny alien creature hell bent on reproducing…Who knows and who cares? It's the apocalypse, kiddo, store the chocolate, grab a gun and try to enjoy the ride while it lasts. If it's an infection, we're probably quarantined and going to an airport wouldn't help. We'll have to outlive the idiot monkeys out there, and we're going to stay together, and there are going to be rules. First," he grimaced, and sniffed at his armpits "when there's a bathroom, we shower. And loot for deodorant."

The snicker that slipped through Shin's mouth and turned into hysterical laughter shared by the both of them made Shintaro feel infinitely better.

Sure, he was one handed now, but…

Memorizing Shin's gleeful, childish face and his relieved eyes that wouldn't stop swallowing in Shintaro's frame he decided it was better than being the only human out there.

**. . . * . . .**

It was three weeks after Shintaro lost his hand.

They're on the rooftop of a fancy hotel, where all the zombie are locked in the spa or slaving in the gym, and they just stand there, sipping Cola.

_Godsend_, Shintaro thought solemnly while the cool liquid caressed his tongue, swishing around the hot cavern that is his mouth. God help anything that tries to live in there – unless they liked saliva filled heaters.

Shin was fiddling with his soda, more focused on something in the horizon that isn't really there. Deciding to snap him out of it, Shintaro turned around and leans against the railing, closing his eyes, and opened his mouth –

"You know, you could fall to your death like that." Shin said first.

Shintaro waved a hand in the air, ignoring the warning with an, "Doesn't matter."

Shin obviously disagreed, if the furrow of his eyebrows and the displeased tug at his lips said anything.

"You know," Shintaro started this time, "I used to think you were me."

Shin relaxed his brow. "Really? Why?"

"The name, the looks, the effing personality," he made sure to censor his language, "isn't it obvious?"

Shin stared at him. "Name?" He said slowly, "Your name's Konoha – it's nothing similar to mine."

_This is wrong. _"My name isn't Konoha," Shintaro said. His stomach felt weird. "My name was Shin."

"Shin?" He sounded confused. "No, your name isn't Shin – maybe it's a nickname for a longer name? Like, Kuroshin? Shikan?"

"Maybe…" something wrong is going around here, "but we're both Shin –"

Shin – Konoha? –

(_…taro…nna….Shin…kun…)_

-paused and tilted his head. "Shin…" he started, "What's the name of your family?"

Silence. "…What's yours?" Shin asked instead of answering.

Silence.

"I…"

Shi - _**K**__ono__**ha**_ was silent, and so was Shin. Gathering his courage, Shintaro asked in a final, slightly horrified voice, "Shin…what were you doing before the grocery store?"

Shin tinkered with his soda, licked his lips, and brought the drink to his lips, swallowing the dark liquid without stopping for breath. When he finished, he turned startling (red) eyes on Konoha, a confused, lost expression etched into his facial expression, and warily muttered.

"I don't remember."

**. . . * . . .**

Four days after their conversation, and one day after Shin is bitten, they're both keeping an eye on Shin. On himself, in Shin's case.

Konoha is glad that it isn't anything like the movies – Shin hasn't started drooling in the mouth and groping anything human, _yet_ – but that meant Konoha had cut off his hand for no reason, and they can't even be sure yet. Maybe the long exposure (a month? Two months?) to zombies has made him immune – sort of like shots, except you had to get soaked with zombie blood before your immune system got it's butt up to gear.

Either way, it's one day after he's bitten. Konoha leaves the bathroom after he wakes up and finds Shin gazing at the mirror.

Konoha shakes his head slowly; narcissism.

"Good morning," Konoha greets him on his way to the kitchen. Shin stiffens and mutters back greetings, not turning around to face him, and Konoha turns a blind eye on his behavior; maybe he had acne or something.

Ah. Puberty.

(For the record, Konoha has a feeling he's still younger than twenty and in the midst of puberty, so maybe he shouldn't have such nostalgia in his tone.

It doesn't matter, though, he's still gonna act like an old man around Shin.)

After making two peanut butter sandwiches, Konoha invites his highness for breakfast, if he'd like some food. If not, Konoha is willing to eat his share. Shin comes trudging in, facing the floor and bangs shadowing his face.

Konoha slams (quietly. They didn't even shout anymore; their conversations consisted mostly of whispers and in the occasion of anger, a sudden normal volume, for safety reasons) a sandwich into the kid's plate and sits down.

Shin lifts his face – finally – to face Konoha. He continues staring at Konoha, who stares back, even while he munches on his sandwich.

(Konoha's head hurts, his chest squeezes, and his stomach reminds him of the acid in it.)

Konoha quietly pipes up, "are those contacts?"

Shin looks at him with brown eyes that are turning red every time he blinks and says, "No."

**. . . * . . .**

Konoha learns some things from Shin being bitten by a zombie:

One, he is Shin, but he is also a zombie, and he is also a thing in between human and zombie.

Two, the sub-human part of him is the most common to surface. Said persona really likes threatening Shin and reminds Konoha of a snake boy with yellow eyes that are reoccurring in his dreams.

So it's like this:

They're out, scavenging, and they come upon a group of zombies, stumbling around. Shin laughs, he holds a hand to his mouth, creases his eyes, and laughs soft giggles.

"Look at them. Stupid, useless, incompetent."

Konoha tells him to shut up, the zombies are going to hear us, and then Shin says,

"Let them hear. They won't eat _me_." Shin looks at him with teary red, red eyes and Konoha looks away.

And once, they came upon a dead dog. Shin chortled so hard, he impaled his neck when he leaned his back against a sharp pole that reached the middle of his neck.

He didn't die.

Three, he doesn't like human meat when he's like that, so eventually, he turns into his zombie form and eats enough zombie flesh to last the days when he had been subhuman, and then turns back. He's different than other zombies, because he becomes a cannibal and eats them if he doesn't find Konoha. It's funny – are the zombies cannibals for eating humans or is Shin a cannibal for eating zombies?

It goes like this:

Konoha plays hide and seek at least once a week, and he runs downs dark hallways, past bodies, and tries not get eaten by Shin. Once at least a day has passed, he emerges from his hiding place to check on Shin.

And that's three, when Shin is back to normal for a few hours, right after turning into his zombie counterpart, and then turning into a subhuman.

Shin doesn't remember what happens, Konoha realizes, and is strangely affectionate. Unfortunately, there's no good way to know when he turns into a subhuman again.

It is:

Konoha comes upon Shin, leaning on a wall and holding a hand to his mouth, staring at the bodies. It looks – well, it looks like someone dumped spaghetti on the floor, only it's red and green and organ colors. Probably because the stuff on the ground is more organs and bones than meat and skin.

He helps him up silently, but Shin looks at him with loud, scared eyes.

Sometimes, he asks, "What's going on?"

Once, he asks, "What am I?"

Konoha goes to sleep with Shin clutching onto him tightly, asking him to tell him stories and memories and asking questions. Shin usually has his palm pressed against Konoha's chest, or his head resting on his chest, listening to what he is supposed to be, and holds his other hand to his own chest, comparing.

Sometimes, Konoha tells him stories that scare himself, ones that are made up as he speaks and he forgets as soon as they leave his mouth. He fabricates tales about misunderstood women and snakes and sad, unique children, and one kid who won't ever be part of the group, won't ever forget.

"I wish I was him," Shin says, "so I wouldn't forget."

When Konoha wakes up, he feels the pulse of Shin with his hand, it's slow and sometimes stops for minutes, almost lazily trying to go to sleep.

"I could snap your neck from here."

Konoha looks down at red eyes (to check) and doesn't say a thing when he finds them tracked on his neck.

**. . . * . . .**

Months. Days, weeks, hours, seconds – years. Years may have passed, and Konoha wouldn't have known better. Time has become more of a symbolism rather than anything – more like a weapon during one of their scavenges – and it's much better to plead deaf to the true implication of it being so long since Konoha has been living like this, so long since dates mattered. It hurts much less, too, and Konoha heard a tiny voice saying, again and again: _That's because that's how I defend myself. I repress memories, because I am a coward, but I can no longer forget anything, and so I always, always, try to severe my connection with time and society through isolation. I am a disgusting coward, but at least I can survive like that._

Konoha didn't exactly bother thinking of it too much. The thought rooted into his mind sounded well-rehearsed and researched, and had the fading taste of the novelty of clarification.

What matters now, though, was that it's been a long time since Konoha has been alone (because Shin was not always there) and they were in a big pile of shit.

**. . . * . . .**

It was after Shin had returned to his human self after gorging on zombie flesh that _they_ struck. Logically, Konoha should have figured it out, and he did think about it during his hiding, but mostly he had just prayed they'd leave Shin alone since he pretty much qualified as zombie.

He hid close to Shin, watching warily, heart plastering across his ribcage and breathe starting to get panicked; the self-made self-preserving thought that Shin could hear Konoha breathe, could find him and kill him that Konoha should scram was really stressful. But Konoha couldn't leave Shin alone when he could turn back to human at any time, completely vulnerable to zombie attacks.

Silently, he cursed his rotten luck that Shin just had to turn into his mad-hungry-gluttonous-zombie mode in the middle of a Victoria's Secrets, which was in the middle of a mall. Where you could spot five teenage girls at every corner, three women at every store door, ten men and a couple of teenage girls who loathed shopping slouching on a chair, children playing in the fountain and the male ones trying to pee into said fountain, and the two boys to one girl ratio in every video game store. Except with cracked craniums and gaping mouths.

Swiping his palms on his trousers once he saw Shin's blank eyes flutter close and his body slump over his latest meal, Konoha softly tugged at the dress he was hiding behind, in hope Shin would spot it and think: _Oh, that must be Konoha trying to tell me to hide so I don't get eaten alive. It isn't, say, a zombie stumbling around or wind or a poltergeist coming to posses me._

Peering through the belly button opening of the not-modest-at-all shirt, he caught Shin slowly opening his eyes again, looking confused and like a little child, while he glanced around.

"Psst," Konoha whispered.

Shin turned towards him and said, almost desperately, "Konoha?"

Konoha tugged at the dress in a yes.

Shin stumbled towards him.

A group of zombies stumbled towards Shin.

**. . . * . . .**

"Go, go, go!"

"Wait – Konoha, come on! Come on, take it! Take it!"

"No – go, Shin. Run!"

"No – way – in – heaven – or – hell –"

…

_"What's your name?" the boy murmurs after a few, long moments._

_Shintaro open his eyes. He stares at the boy from under thick lashes as he stares at the counter. He wants to see his face, so he walks in front of him and brushes his fingers along the counter's surface and pretends it's a piano. He brushes his fingers gently against keys, and his ears hear a fading melody._

_You. _

_"Shintaro."_

…

"SHINTARO!"

**. . . * . . .**

Shintaro's breath is getting shallower.

Shin hates it. Hates how the greatest person he'd ever met had to…

Turn into a m-monster.

(But that injury is a gunshot –

Oh, it'll be a long…death. It can even be avoided. It's the bites decorating his collar that are scary.)

"Shin," Shintaro – and isn't that amazing? Shin has finally remembered – says, "Leave now. While they haven't gotten in yet."

"No," Shin defies the plea. He's disgusting for not fulfilling the wish of the dying, but it's his fault Shintaro is dying like this. It's his fault, because if Shin hadn't been bitten they wouldn't be in this situation. If he had been bitten, he might've been able to move Shintaro, jump off the roof to the empty courtyard, and not be afraid of turning into a psychopath after thirty minutes - while his sanity drifted into a dark hole, probably his subconcious, soundless for the most part except for the occasional noise the escaped into his it and urged him to _wake up_ -, one who wasn't capable of handling a gun injury. If he wasn't so small, he might've been able to do so many stuff, if he wasn't so stupid –

"You know, what-if is _horrible_," Shintaro complains in that dry tone. His eyes are knowing. "So complicated and out for all of my self-esteem – I recommend you avoid the practice."

Shin doesn't smile.

Shintaro lets out a heavy exhale through his nose. "Shin," his tone is urgent, "you have to go. Now."

"No."

"Don't…be a sentimental…idiot," Shintaro growls. The intimidation is gone because of the frequent pauses for heavy inhales. Shin's chest squeezes. "…You're being…a fool."

"No," he says adamantly, "I'm being a friend."

"Friends are idiots," Shintaro says. He adds a "moron" under his breath.

He can't comprehend this.

This isn't really happening. Right?

There is a lump in his throat, and his eyes are shining from the tears he's trying to hold back.

"Don't cry," Shintaro orders him, weak voice and all. "Don't you dare cry, you hear me?"

Shin swallows, but the lump is still there.

"I'm not gonna let you, let you," he says, calls on pure will, "die alone. Not alone. Never alone."

"Stupid Shin," Shintaro spits out, but the tight grip he has on Shin's hand informs Shin otherwise.

Shintaro doesn't want to die alone, either.

Shintaro closes his eyes for a second. Shin almost shakes him awake, until they flicker open and settle on him with uncanny knowledge of his thoughts and…

"Shin, give me your gun."

Resignation. Acceptance. One was better than the other, but in Shin's opinion, they were both terrible.

There is something lodged in his throat, there must be, and of course he slipped into some sort of tight corset in the morning…maybe when he was in his other forms? Well, his other form were blind not to realize how tight this shirt was. It squeezed his nonexistent chest.

"Just…a bullet. No need to waste ammo."

"Do you even hear what you're saying? Are you stupid? Moronic? Can't you understand," he stops to try and stop a sudden session in which a soft, high pitched noise comes from the back of his throat. Shintaro's fingers slip through his hair and combs it softly. It's soothing.

"I don't _want_ you to _d-die_."

"What you want," Shintaro says calmly, "isn't always a top priority to everyone."

Shin tries to laugh. It comes out hysterical. There's a lot of snot.

Or maybe it's tears. Shin doesn't care.

"You're one of a rare kind, Kisaragi. Thank God." Shin doesn't bother thinking about how he might have just insulted himself there.

"Kisaragi…?" Shintaro asks. "What's…that?"

"Well –"

A low whimper slips in between Shintaro's lips. His eyes widen momentarily. "Shin. Give me the gun."

This isn't real. "No."

"Shin, please. I don't…want to be…one of those –"

_I don't want to be a zombie. I don't want to go around trying to eat you. I don't want to be a monster, a cannibal. I don't want to lose control of my actions. I don't want to be _you.

Me.

Shin disagrees with his angsty thoughts. Shintaro wanted to kill himself mostly because if Shintaro does become one, he would disagree with Shin's other forms and they'd die by the end of the week. But, of course, angsty thoughts were there to primarily make you feel like shit.

"Shin," he sounds pitiful, "don't…be a little bitch. Give it. Go."

Shin's face crumbles. "I don't want to leave you alone," but he's already losing the will to retort. He doesn't want to see Shintaro die. They both know it.

"I don't want you to see me do it. And you aren't leaving me alone. I'm leaving you, but I…g-guarantee you, if I can become a ghost, I _will_ come back and haunt you."

Shin nods, then buries his face in his hand.

"Shin," he hears him sigh. A hand tugs on his arms and he's burying his face into Shintaro's chest. "You know…I love you. Don't tthhink f-funny things – you're like my little brother."

Shin laughs into his chest, it's muffled, but Shintaro hears it and he laughs a little. The laughter descends into coughing fits and Shin is pressed right next to his heart, and he hangs on every slow beat.

"You're a narcissist, go figure," Shin says, if only to hide the way his hands curl into fists around Shintaro's shirt.

"What?"

"Selfcest."

"Are you high?"

"Were you, when you were seven?"

"I don't see how this has anything to do with me."

"It has everything to do with you."

"Yep. You're high. Now, give me the gun."

Shin is about to deny cooperation when he hears a crash.

"Soon," Shintaro says blankly, "they'll come. Shin."

"It's not fair," he objects fairly. "Not fair that the only way I could've met you was like this."

Shin looks at Shintaro's face and he's obviously holding back a comment about his sanity, weather because they were supposed to have a moment or because he couldn't speak without letting the pain filter his words. His neck is nearly entirely red, Shin notes with fascination. It contrasts with his pale skin and dark coloring.

It matches his scarf. And honestly?

He doesn't know the difference between the scarf and the blood.

"Y-you know," Shintaro winces, "the scarf…someone said it might've been dyed with menstrual blood."

Shin blanks. "I'm sorry, what?"

Shintaro chokes back a snicker.

"You just ruined the moment," Shin says. Like he can't believe it. But he can; this is Shintaro, all time socially stunted, part time big bro, one hundred percent different, and sometimes badass.

So he shrugs. At least he didn't ask how Shin knew about menstrual blood.

Shintaro's dark eyes are focused on him. They're intense, and they used to scare and sort of…attract Shin at the beginning.

His eyes are so…empty. Guarded. Eyes are best reflections of emotions, but in Shintaro's case it's like he realized that and just stopped letting his emotions show. It's all sorts of pitiful and sad, especially with this insane theory Shin has about the two of them.

He opens his mouth, but Shin already knew what he'd say – he always circled back to the same topic – so he leaves a lonely bullet in the chamber before putting it in his hand.

(If Shintaro dies, it's Shin's fault.

Not suicide.

Sacrifice?

Homicide.)

Shintaro's lips loosen in relief, and he lets a gentle genuine smile on his face. It's rare that Shin sees a full on grin, even rarer to see a soft smile, even if he had his tender moments. Shintaro tells him, "Out." He listens. Even though his cheeks are already sticky and itchy and his mouth really should be shut just in case some snot gets into his nose drips inside his mouth, he lets out the soft, nearly inaudible whimpers.

"Love you," Shintaro says, one last time.

"I love you too."

He isn't bothered when his legs feel like they're shattering once he jumps, isn't bothered about zombies but still manages to hide from the little that weren't searching for Shintaro in the last floor, as respect to Shintaro's wish, and when he feels the signature headache before he turns into his sub-human self (although that could be because of his weeping, muffled by a possibly dirty fist in the mouth) he thinks:

_This is the time where, in an anime, the main character lives. This is when I turn into my other self and save Shintaro. This is when Shintaro gets dying will flames and flies out of there. This is when I get my happy end—_

The shot echoes around the silent courtyard.

**. . . * . . .**

Konoha – no, Kisaragi sounds better.

Yes, Kisaragi feels relieved when he dies.

After all, he never really believed this wasn't some concocted dream.

(But then he remembered about Shin.

Kisaragi is selfish. It is undeniable. But for his friends, he would do anything.)

So, in the end, he regrets holding the gun to his head.

**. . . * . . .**

"Shintaro-danna," the giant, black form that almost melds with the darkness, save for bright red eyes, greets in a soft tenor. It's sort of motherly, and really not anything like the time when Shintaro died.

Shintaro - …died?

Oh.

_Oh._

"You –"

"I'm a snake," the snake cuts in, "not a female dog."

The memories are slowly filtering into his mind. Now, he knows why Konoha is so important, why red sodas are absolutely addicting, why he keeps on speaking to computers and phones like a lunatic when they had slept in an electronics shop once. Shin had looked at him with this _oh shit we're going to die _expression. Wasn't madness a way of survival or something? Frankly, he's a bit depressed Shin gave up on him straight away instead of contacting a shrink. But Shintaro's allergic to shrinks anyways, and it wasn't like they could find one in the middle of a zombie infested country.

"You're truly interesting, danna," the snake says, "but are you the hero?"

"I hope not."

"I think you are."

Shintaro is disappointed.

"But, see, the strange thing is Shintaro-danna lost his body. So Shintaro-danna, unfortunately, has died."

Well, shit.

The snake slithers across the floor, twisting around Shintaro until he's stuck in the center. He eyes it (her?) warily, but can't seem to dredge up enough care or self preservation. "I thought I'd get a second chance." He says finally.

The snake sounds curious. "Haven't you got tens of those, Shintaro-danna? You're very selfish. But that's human."

Shintaro has a snake monster lecturing him on humanity. Ironic.

"Shintaro-danna may have lost his body, but his mind, on the other hand, is much more stable and stronger than Shintaro-kun," the snake pauses, "also, Shintaro-kun traded his body for yours. Such selflessness contradicts my earlier statement."

For some reason, his guts feel strange. It might have had to do with the insane snake around him, talking about two people with the same name, or it might have something to do with dread.

Shintaro wonders why.

"So, Shintaro-danna will keep his mind and mentality," the snake's smile slips a little, and her tone sounds like she expects a sudden attack from Shintaro when she lifts her head far above him and continues, "while Shintaro-kun – no, wait, wasn't it Shin? – will keep his body. It's an exchange that is only working because you're both-"

_Shin? _No. Not him. _Oh my fucking god not him –_

"—one person. Ah, what was it? Selfcest?" Sometime later, when he is more rational, less emotional, when _his _defense mechanisms kick in, he might get the sudden idea that the snake was trying to comfort him. And it isn't funny, because she's the one who put him here in the first place.

"Shintaro-danna, you do realize that this is the only way you can go back and fix everything, don't you?"

"No._ No. _I refuse. Shin should go back. Give him my memories – but taking away his body and trapping his mind here - that _isn't fair_."

"Memories aren't the same as experience. Besides, you have seen Shintaro-kun's state of my mind. Do you think he could successfully help Haruka if he was just as bipolar as him? Do you want his subhuman form to meet Kuroha? Besides, remember that this is you. Shin is you, and you have the right to sacrifice his life."

Shintaro is _angry_. It's an overpowering feeling, flaming his insides and turning his mind to mush. His voice is taut, cold. "I am not Shin. Shin, in everything but body, is his own person. I'm his eleven years older self – I'm not him. He can think for himself, he has no obligation to follow my orders."

"And he is thinking for himself. He's the one who suggested the trade," the snake adds in a low voice, "although I might have told him how he could fix this. And you are him, too, so he's saving himself in the process."

"I will not –"

"Shintaro." Pause. "You have no choice."

"I –"

"The only reason I'm helping you, is because I've been affected by your strong mind – defense mechanisms, was it? – otherwise I'd have turned you into something similar to Kano Shuuya."

Shintaro lets out a self-degrading laugh. Its sharp edged and grates on his ears. "I'm already similar to him."

"True."

There's silence, it stretches out across the darkness, and maybe, maybe Shintaro will acknowledge that he is making choking sounds, that his breathes are heavy and his shoulders are shaking.

No tears fall.

(Because he's not crying…just resting, because of the past years, squashed into a long, non-ending day that tired him to the bone and stole his breath away.)

"Shintaro-danna. Just a note for you – try to get into the heat haze with Momo," the snake added brightly.

"Excuse me?"

"Also, stop repressing every bad thing. It's hard to get through your mental barriers and talk to you. I suggest we cooperate and help each other, and avoiding my existence doesn't help."

"Again, excuse me? You're one of the heat haze snakes. I think you might've forgotten the _slightly_ troubling stuff you've done. You know, like, taking control over Kano and fucking up his life, amongst other stuff. And why would you want to help, don't you want to see your queen?"

The snake peered down at him. "Are you done whining now? I wasn't sure…you seemed happy. Is complaining a good stress reliever?"

Shintaro scowled.

"That was the Deceiving Eye snake. You humans hate discrimination, and yet that is the most common problem you have." The snake continued. "And you should be grateful of our existence; you children would have been dead if it wasn't for us."

"You haven't answered everything."

"Stop being impatient, Shintaro-danna." Glare. "I want to see my Queen, of course, but you have enough notoriously bad luck to see her often, so I'm not worried much about that. And, I have to admit, I was tempted to take control of you, but you're too strong – or cowardly – and I couldn't get through. By the time I even got through, you were suicidal and I was very interested in you. Besides, Clearing Eyes has another desire besides uniting us. It isn't very nice. So I'll stick with you."

The snake adds, "and I _have_ spoken to you. Countless of times."

Shintaro narrows his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

The snake smiles.

And then, suddenly, in its place is an Ayano with blank red eyes and no scarf, hair short and not the long it actually is when the scarf is taken off.

"Remember me?" Her smile is not a corkscrew smile.

**. . . * . . .**

**a.n.**

**Explanations of chapter one:**

_Interconnected drabbles of the timelines, all of them bad ends, and the last end: bad end in which Shintaro saves Kuroha but dies._

_And then Ayano, Azami and his snake concoct a plan for him to go back in time._

_The POV that talks about heroes and has a lot of () is actually the snake telling them what it thinks a hero should be._

_So all those (insert sentences) in the first POV were actually flashbacks that defied all the snake's expectations._

_And then BAM heat haze._

**Explanation of chapter two:**

_- O!Shin and Y!Shin are in a heat haze_

_- The heat haze is a zombie apocalypse_

_- They forget nearly all their memories_

_-Y!Shin has a Kuroha counterpart (kidding, kidding)_

_- Y!Shin's mind is divided into three unstable parts_

_-O!Shin's body is destroyed_

_- The snake suggests they exchange bodies and minds: Y!Shin's body gets out of the heat haze with O!Shin's mind, while O!Shin's body and Y!Shin's mind stay behind_

_- The snake turns out to be the Ayano that always haunts his dreams. You know, the one in LTM and whatnot_

_- The snake does not want to kill everybody_

_- The snake is interested in Shintaro. Hopefully, it isn't romantic._

_If you have any more questions, there's the review box and the PM option._

_This is my longest chapter yet, it's pushing ten thousand words, and by the end of the A/N it probably would have reached 10k. Anyways, I'm sorry for the late and long update. I'm sorry for the angst. I'm sorry if you were confused. I'm sorry for the 'lost time' ahem /refrence/._

_Really, I'm sorry for everything except the reviews :D_

_A note to the readers who want my other kagepro story, _**Why You Shouldn't be a Genius**_:_

_I will continue the story. It just isn't my top priority. Yes, I've already started on chapter one. Yes, I've already wrote down what I want to write in chapter one. Yes, I tend to keep my chapters rotting in Microsoft for a long time._

_I'd like if someone could be my kagepro fanfic advisor, for all the plot twists that I want someone to review and give me the 'continue on' sign. I don't want to write it out in a chapter, publish it, and then think, in three weeks' time, 'wtf was I thinking? Gah! More trouble writing! #writers' block festival'. In other words I want an advisor or beta reader asap._

_Psst. It's on my Christmas list. You are Santa Clause, aren't you?_

_Also, a reply to guest reviews:_

**Anon-san:**_ Thanks a lot :D. Would you mind telling me what you couldn't understand? I hope the short notes above helped clear things up with you. Also, legit yaoi now. No gender bending. I hate gender flips but I still did it /I am a hypocrite. And this is definitely an AU. Some things are the same, but mostly it's all different. It just doesn't show now, because the show was mostly centered on Shintaro at eighteen and fifteen/sixteen, not seven. Do you want Kokoshin shots? They're at most private hospitals for a small price of…oh, a million and three thousand dollars._

**Guest_: _**_owo everyone's complimenting my writing. I will go hide now. But first, thanks! Second, read the above review reply, since yours is pretty similar. Third, I hope you don't mind the confusing, absolutely AU second chapter :|_

_Drop a review. Part of why I wasn't encouraged much to write this chapter faster was because of the lack of reviews. The few precious, lovely ones I had all (minus two) contained a sentence:_

_I/'m cry/upset because I'm so confused but I see the LTM/OS references._

_._

**Just a question: is third person present tense better than past tense? Which one should I write with?**

_._

_._

_TBC._

_._

_hopeless desires |_


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